This past fall, I had more things go wrong in a 2-month period than I ever have in my adult life.
A carbon monoxide leak that led to a visit from the fire department. Our boiler broke. A deep cut in my 5-year old’s tongue that landed us in the emergency room. And several other big things went wrong as well—we couldn’t seem to catch a break.
One of the many problems that arose was discovering that we had airborne toxic mold in our basement. This turned out to be a blessing, and I learned some life-changing lessons. But it didn’t start out that way.
Awful Possibilities
It was a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving. Apparently, we had water damage from Hurricane Ida. We didn’t know at the time since there was zero visible water. Yet there it was- black spots behind the washer dryer. The mold guys came, and we talked through all of the terrible possibilities.
The absolute worst-case scenario was airborne toxic mold that had wafted up to the first-floor from the basement. It would mean evacuating the house, and doing Thanksgiving out of an Airbnb with my husband and young kids. The stress of that thought was overwhelming. I reached down deep to all that I’ve learned from mindfulness and meditation and reminded myself, “This is not happening right now. It’s a possibility, but it’s not happening now.” Onward we went.
The mold guys came and confirmed the (almost) worst— the mold was toxic, and it was airborne. BUT—it was not airborne on the first floor. They would seal the basement off, but we could stay. No moving my kids. No Airbnb.
Lesson Learned:
When the worst is not happening,
allow yourself to experience deep gratitude for that.
Imagine the inside of your junk drawer. What’s in there? Probably all sorts of horrible things that don’t go together—a band aid, 3 markers, some sentimental item that you can’t throw away but don’t know where it goes, and a hundred other random things. That was our basement. To keep our house uncluttered, we’ve moved all of the stuff that we didn’t know what to do with down to our basement…for years. Always with the best of intentions about going in and sorting, reorganizing, and donating.
One of the most stressful aspects of this mold, in addition to potential health effects for our kids, and the price tag, was that we were going to have to go through Every. Single. Thing. in our basement, and either throw it away, or pay to have it cleaned by the mold guys. What was down there? Oh god—I had to hold my head in my hands just thinking about it. All my kids’ Christmas presents, their artwork, old toys, clothes…SO many things. I thought going through all our stuff be the worst part, but it was liberating, and it turned out to be a blessing.
Diving Into the Overwhelm
The dumpster arrived. We had our respirators on. We couldn’t find a babysitter— so too much TV, here we come! We blocked off 4 mornings, and we went in. I basically did a Marie Condo in reverse. Instead of asking myself, “Does it spark joy?”, most of the time when I picked something up, I would think “Oh god”, and my stomach would feel like I’d been punched. Whenever I felt like that, I threw it into the dumpster.
The thing about airborne toxic mold, is anything you want to keep, you must pay to have it cleaned because spores have settled on every surface. This forces you to make a deliberate decision about whether or not you actually want the thing and will invest even more money to keep it. It also removes all guilt—you cannot donate it or sell it. You must let go of the fact that you spent money on something that didn’t get used. You must accept that you are putting piles of plastic into a landfill.
I let go of the dining room table that was in my childhood home, when my parents were still married and my family was intact. I let go of the early childhood toys that my aunt had gifted me and I had wanted to pass on to her daughter when she has children.
I had to let go, and I had to do it quickly. About 10% of the time I felt like- “You know what? I want this. I will pay to have it cleaned, and I will keep it.”
Lighter. More free.
Before I had kids, on Friday nights I would buy trashy magazines and settle into a cozy night of relaxation with my now husband. Through all of my rag mags I learned that the stars go to Promises, a fancy rehabilitation for alcoholism, when they need to recover from addiction.
After I’d thrown 90% of what was in my basement away, and simply let it all go, I felt lighter, and freer. I felt grateful that the albatross of all this stuff was no longer weighing me down. It inspired me to go through the rest of my house and purge wherever I could.
I started telling people that our airborne toxic mold was my Promises experience- it was my $13,000 Hoarders remediation program. And I learned many lessons.
Here is What I Know Now
1. Unless it’s a genuine YES, it’s a No. An enthusiastic yes to something in your life means you feel clear, and you truly want this.
2. We must let go, again and again. We hold onto jobs we don’t like, relationships that no longer serve us, and even ideas about our identity that are outdated. When you allow yourself to shed and say goodbye, you will feel clear, and you will be more free.
3. Letting go allows us to start fresh. New chapters are always within our grasp—we just need to identify what we want and go after it.
4. Positives stem from our negative experiences. It’s healthy to feel sad or angry in the moment, but there is also so much to learn—don’t squander these opportunities to gain something from your low points.
So ask yourself, “What do I truly want? What do I need to let go of?”
Like many bits of wisdom, it’s simple — but not easy. The time is now. What will you leave behind and where will it allow you to go next?